Page 24 of Wallflower Witch

“Patrick,” I huff. “I can feel it. My magic has grown, and it’s responding to my summons now.”

Patrick’s eyes squint, and he cocks his head to the side, but doesn’t say anything at first. Then he nods and steps back, holding the sticks out again.

“Focus on the magic and see if you can make a gust or a breeze to knock them off my hand.”

I close my eyes and feel the powers inside me rush down my arms like a flood, but they stop as they reach my fingertips. I mentally try to push forward, but it’s like they have hit a wall.

“Um, not to be a Debbie Downer, but they seem stuck.” I keep my eyes closed, feeling the power filling my arms and back to my middle.

Patrick makes a soft noise. “Try picturing your powers flowing like a playful breeze. Soft and flowing. Or like a hurricane with strong, hard blasts.”

I try to do as I’m told, but my power still rushes to the end of my fingers and freezes.

I shake my head, blinking my eyes open. “I think it’s broken.” I sigh.

Patrick laughs. “Not broken. You can feel it. You can wield at least some of it in talking to ghosts. You are not broken.” He emphasizes the last two words. “We have learned that your affinity isn’t wind, but there are still four—umm, three—left to test. Should we move on to water?”

I nod, hoping this is the one. Fire and water, they would fit well together like we fit well together.

“Okay, same thing. Focus on your power, feel it rushing through you like a wild river. Or maybe a gentle stream. Whatever it is that you’re needing from your power at the moment. I’d suggest a babbling brook currently, but that’s because I don’t want to get soaked.” He smirks, nodding at where the sticks still lay in his outstretched hand. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to clear my mind. I call the power from my center, drawing it up and up, filling myself until it feels like I’m about to overflow. It flows down my arms, more of a rushing river than the babbling brook Patrick requested, but beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m sure control comes with time and practice.

My magic rushes down my arms, reaching my hands. I smile, sure that this is it. I can control water and will be able to do more than just talk to ghosts. But just like last time, it reaches my fingertips, then stops so suddenly I let out a grunt.

“Ow,” I moan. “That was physically painful when it stopped.”

Patrick smiles softly. “Sorry. I should have warned you about that. Sometimes when the power is too much, it can be an almost electric shock going through you.”

“Not as shocking as a car crash,” I complain, shaking out my arms. “Let’s try again.”

Patrick’s eyes look sad when he states, “I don’t think water is your affinity. We should try fire.”

My hope deflates. I was so sure water was going to be my gift. Not that I don’t think seeing ghosts is a cool power, but I don’t know if I’d call it a gift. And it’s not something I can see being useful in a battle of any kind.

“Fine.” I sigh. “Is this how everyone finds out their affinities? Trial and error?”

Patrick shrugs. “More or less. The order can be different. Most magic travels in family lines. If someone knows their family is strong in, say, fire, they would probably start testing there. If we didn’t know that you could see ghosts, we’d have started with spirit, based on the grimoire. But obviously, that doesn’t need testing; so now we work our way through the rest. And not everyone has a double affinity. Most don’t. Don’t be discouraged if you only have a spirit affinity. It’s a kick ass magic. I’ll just have to do some research to see how best to train you…”

“Kick ass?” I question. “Being able to hear ghosts and relive their deaths with them doesn’t seem like a helpful magic. I can’t use it in a fight or to protect the ones I love. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I’m a witch, mostly, and that I’m learning more about my family and our past, but if I have these powers, I’d like to be able to do good in the world.”

Patrick closes the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a comforting hug.

“Oh, Mor.” He sighs, tucking my head under his chin. “You have so much to learn. Spirit is so much more than just seeing ghosts. You can bring back and control the dead. Spirit users can take away the will of a living person, magical or not, and control their actions. I want you to have a double affinity to protect you, not anyone else. Spirit users are feared. They were and are hunted. Your magic isn’t weak. It’s the opposite. It’s so strong that other witches and warlocks fear it. I want you to have something else to share when someone asks about your affinity. You won’t be able to hide your magic. I sensed it when I first laid eyes on you, and it’s only grown since.”

“I would never take over another person’s will. Well, I don’t want to take their choices away.” I shudder at the idea.

“I know, Morrigan O’Byrne, but others may not take the chance to get to know you first. Most witches are scared enough of spirit users that they have a policy of kill first, ask questions later, and that’s what I want you to avoid.” He gently presses a kiss to my forehead before pulling back. “Now let’s test out these last two and maybe something will spark.”

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands, sniffling a few times before stepping back to my place to practice.

Like the other two times, I search inside myself, pulling my magic up. Focusing on fire, I feel the warmth traveling through me, almost burning me from the inside out. I slow the magic before it can go rushing toward freedom, hoping if I send it down in a flood, it can break through whatever barrier is stopping me. I scream as I force it down and out. It flies down my arms like a wildfire, burning everything in its path and turning my skin pink. It reaches my hands and fizzles out. I fall forward, catching myself on my hands and knees, panting from the effort.

Patrick runs forward again. “Mor! Morrigan, are you okay?! What happened?!” He crouches next to me, gently running his hand up and down my back.

“I don’t know,” I huff. “I could feel my magic rushing through me, then it hit a wall or something. But it was moving faster this time. I thought it would get through.” I drop back onto my rear, looking down at my hands. My palms sting slightly where the skin ripped open against the ground. Blood trickles from the wounds, but as I stare, the skin starts to seal itself back together. Within a minute, the blood stops and nothing is left except a small pink star on each hand.

“What the hell?” I say in amazement.

---